


Christmas Cookies

by TheSilverField



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: 25 days of drabbles, Christmas Drabbles, Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Modern AU, Tumblr Prompt, baby!Mina, dad!jeanmarco, prompts by cherrytrinkets on tumblr, tumblr holiday prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 15:44:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13010970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSilverField/pseuds/TheSilverField
Summary: just a series of drabbles from a tumblr holiday prompt list created by @cherrytrinkets





	Christmas Cookies

Like everyone else in the world, Jean was talented in a few aspects of his life, decent in others, and just plain rotten in some. He excelled in anything to do with art, his hand able to stay steady when painting or sketching, his eye able shade and blend and color just right, his mind able to stay focused on the task at hand. If he hadn't abandoned the trade at a young age, he would have been a more-than-okay guitar player. But, as he had gotten older, his love for art trumped his interest in music. But this. _This_ Jean just couldn't grasp.

 _Baking_.

Normally, Jean wouldn't worry about such a thing, especially this time of year. He would be sat in the living room, watching his daughter toddle around on her chubby little legs as his husband Marco took care of the Christmas cookies. Alas, both his husband and his daughter were stuck with a nasty cold, so the task was left to Jean.

He had been standing in the kitchen for forty-five minutes, staring down at the neatly scrawled recipe, double checking, triple checking, that he had the proper measuring equipment, all the ingredients out, and the rest of the notes memorized before he even thought about starting. He heard a slow scuffling behind him, and turned to see his husband staring at him in confusion with their sweet daughter tucked and bundled in his arms.

"What are you doing out of bed?" he asked worriedly, quickly going to feel both of their foreheads before giving them a chaste kiss on their freckled cheeks. "Do you need something? I told you to call for me if you needed something."

Marco chuckled breathily, leaning his face into his loving, (and sometimes overprotective) husband's hand. "Mina and I just wanted to make sure everything was okay. And she missed you. Well, we both did." He chuckled again, moving some of the blanket he had the toddler wrapped in away from her face.

There were tears pricking her brown eyes, and a small dribble of snot leaking from her little red nose. She blinked at Jean like he held the world, a small pout puckering her pink lips. "Dada hold." she demanded softly, and if her arms had been free she would have been reaching for him.

Though he wanted to chastise them a little more for getting out of bed, his heart melted the moment her tiny voice reached his ears, and he was immediately taking their little girl into his arms. "Did my sweet baby girl miss me?" he cooed, cradleing her to his chest as he dotted kisses in her messy black hair.

She only hummed in response and nuzzled her face in the crook of his neck. Jean swayed on his feet in hopes that he could rock her to sleep, humming as he tried not to crumble at just how cute their daughter truly is.

Marco watched the two of them interact with a warm smile, a soft blush painting his cheeks as his head swam with the memories of when they had first became parents. When they had learned of this precious little girl's existence only three years ago. When they had met her for the first time. When they had brought her home. Her first words, her first steps, and every milestone after. Everything. Despite how terrible he felt, Marco's chest swelled with more love than he thought he was capable of feeling.

In the same instant, once Mina had fallen into a peaceful sleep in his arms, Jean was studying that warm, partially dazed look in his husband's dazzling brown eyes. _Even while he's sick, he still looks as stunning as ever_ , he thought to himself, his own smile tugging at his lips. His own mind wandered even further into the past. Through all those years of pining after one another until Jean finally said _Fuck it!_ to the world and asked Marco on a date. After that night, their fates were sealed, their hearts promised to each other. Their lives and souls forever intertwined.

"Are you sure you don't want help?" Marco finally broke the silence first, his eyes lingering over Jean's shoulder at the various wares sitting on their kitchen counter.

Jean playfully rolled his eyes, and ushered the fevered, freckled man back to bed, laying their daughter down next to him before tucking them both back in. " _No_. Don't worry, and get some rest. There will be a batch of the most delicious cookies you've ever had in your life waiting for you after your nap." he winked, and kissed the other's soft lips quickly before turning back towards the kitchen.

Before he could leave, Marco grabbed his wrist and pulled him into another kiss before whispering, "I love you," and releasing him once again.

"I love you too. Now rest, Sweetheart." He chuckled softly, and went back to his still unmade cookies with a fresh boost of confidence.

After five hours, three tries, and a whole gallon of milk later, Jean had four Christmas sugar cookies to show for it. When Marco and Mina entered the room again, looking well rested but with wrinkled noses at the burning smell, Jean gave them a sheepish grin. "Well, it's not a batch, but it's something."

Marco only laughed, his eyes sparkling with joy in such a way that Jean's heart fluttered. "It's perfect. Don't you think Dada did a good job, baby girl?" he asked as he nuzzled the girl's cheek, causing her to giggle.

"Yeah huh! Good job, Dada!" Mina cheered excitedly, reaching a little hand for a cookie, which Jean handed her happily.

As they were all three nibbling a slightly-crispier-than-should-be cookie, Jean spoke up again. "I'll fight you for the last one." he teased at either of the two, but before Marco could get a well articulated argument out, Mina piped up again.

"No! That is Santa's cookie!"

No one argued with her about it, but later that night, once they were all supposed to be asleep in bed, someone tiptoed their way to the ziplock bag sitting on the kitchen counter.

Fuck Santa. Marco got the last cookie.


End file.
